


blow up the ground you stand on

by doggo_fiends_on_a_spaceship



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec is a mother hen, Hurt Magnus, M/M, Made Up Magical Bullshit, Magnus Bane is the High Warlock of Brooklyn, Protective Alec, Set Vaguely In The Future, Slight Clary Bashing, and it's great, but also passed out for most of this, but not like "they're married" far, but not really, catarina is petty sometimess, catarina is scary and awesome, clary redeems herself at the end, he cares so much honestly, like fairly far, like i just straight-up made shit up, magnus exhausts himself, magnus is also a cinnamon roll, medical bullshit is also made-up, not as angsty as you may think, she's trying, simon is a cinnamon roll, slight jace bashing, they're just arrogant and selfish sometimess okay???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-17 06:53:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11270271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doggo_fiends_on_a_spaceship/pseuds/doggo_fiends_on_a_spaceship
Summary: Clary, Jace, and Isabelle come to Magnus's door for yet another free session. Despite himself, he agrees to help them.Naturally, he suffers the consequences.





	blow up the ground you stand on

**Author's Note:**

> I WAS ALMOST DONE WITH THIS BEFORE I EVEN GOT THE IDEA FOR THE SPITE FIC. I PROMISE I'M STILL WORKING ON THE SPITE FIC.

 

 

Magnus was exhausted. He was burning the candle at both ends, wearing himself thin.

So, naturally, this was when his local posse of shadowhunters knocked on his door.

He tiredly swung the door open with a wave of his hand, still slumped on his couch. “What do you all want?”

He wasn’t expecting for Clary and Jace to stumble in supporting a pale, unconscious Simon, Isabelle close behind them. Alec, it would seem, was absent.

He stood, ignoring the slight dizziness at the sudden movement as he quickly moved towards Simon, hands already raised and sparking with magic.

“What happened?” he asked urgently.

Clary and Jace lifted him onto the couch, where Simon lay limply. He was clearly bloodied, and now that his torso and chest were exposed, the vicious claw marks ripping across his shirt were visible.

There were numerous, and they were _bad._

“He was attacked by a werewolf,” Isabelle explained hurriedly. “She was new, she didn’t know what she was doing. The _idiot_ tried to help and got some pretty bad scars for his trouble.”

“It wasn’t her fault,” Clary explained, “She was terrified, but–”

“He got some grime in the wounds, they might be infected,” Jace added.

“Where’s Alec?” Magnus asked.

“Is this really the time to be worrying about why your boyfriend isn’t here?” Jace asked, irritated.

“It was an unsanctioned mission,” Isabelle explained. “He wouldn’t have approved.”

“Rightfully so, apparently,” Magnus said, frowning.

“The werewolf girl wasn’t supposed to be there,” Jace began, but Clary interrupted.

“You have to help him,” Clary said seriously, a tinge of desperation to her voice. “You have to help Simon!”

“I would love to, biscuit,” Magnus admitted, “But I don’t know if I can.”

“What do you mean?!” Clary demanded. “You have to help Simon!”

Simon convulsed on the couch, crying out. Jace was trying to hold him down without hurting him. Isabelle was hurrying to help, throwing down her stele.

“Please, Magnus,” she said as she grabbed Simon’s thrashing arms as gently as possible. “Runes can’t help him, and you know the Institute won’t care. We need you.”

“I’ve been very busy,” Magnus began, but before he could get any further, he was once again cut off, this time by Simon crying out loudly.

“We don’t have time for this,” Jace growled.

Magnus sighed. He wished Alec was here- he might’ve been able to lend his strength.

It didn’t help that Clary and her friends had just shown up, once again demanding favors without payment. He would never turn them down unless they were requesting dark magic or something similar, but Simon’s life was in danger. He understood why they’d come. That didn’t mean that it didn’t rub him the wrong way.

He knew that, for the most part, these shadowhunters valued him as an asset. A tool. They didn’t _really_ care about him that much, or value him as a person. A friend.

As much as he cared about them, they had never shown the slightest concern for him- except for Alec, of course, and on occasion, Isabelle.

They’d never said thank you, they’d never helped him when he was in need.

But he cared anyway, so he always helped. And besides, helping them was often helping countless others in the end. Whether it be fighting Valentine or saving lives.

But right now, he wasn’t sure he could do it. He was tired, dangerously so- he hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in a week or so, he’d been helping Dot adjust, and he’d been swarmed with clients and worried downworlders. On top of all that, he had Clary & Co. to worry about, too…

Unless he pushed himself over the brink, he very much doubted he had the energy for this. Perhaps he could call Catarina, or Dot…

He was shaken from his thoughts by Clary’s fingers digging into his arm. He met her eyes.

Her green eyes were bright with tears. “If he dies today because you were _busy,_ ” she said harshly, “I will _never_ forgive you.”

Startled, Magnus looked away. Of course she’d be upset. Her best friend was lying on his couch, dying, and he was going on about how he was tired. He was the fucking _High Warlock of Brooklyn._ He could do this.

Of course he’d help.                           

There wasn’t time to call anyone else by now, anyway.

“Well, he _is_ already dead,” Magnus said. He’d always turned to humor- morbid or otherwise- in dark situations. However, it wasn’t appreciated by his little audience- Isabelle shot him a look, Jace ignored him completely, and Clary…

Clary was _livid._ Simon was dying, and Magnus was making stupid jokes? Did he even _care?_

“If he doesn’t get better…” Clary hissed. She left the sentence hanging ominously.

Magnus looked away. He took a deep breath, trying to call his magic to his fingertips. “Hold him down,” he ordered. “Make sure he can’t move too much, or hurt himself.”

He stood in front of Simon, closing his eyes and waving his hands, assessing the damage.

After a moment, he said quietly, “The good news is, this is a simple fix, no potion required. It wasn’t an alpha that attacked him, and he can’t be Turned. Which is good, because when a bite tries to Turn a vampire, it never ends well.”

“The bad news?” Jace grunted as Simon let out a particularly good kick.

“I– It will take a lot of energy,” Magnus said. “I could really use some help.”

“What if one of us lent you our shadowhunter energy?” Isabelle asked.

“Are any of you virgins?” Magnus shot back.

They all exchanged a look, and sighed.

“No,” Jace admitted.

“Then it wouldn’t be much help,” he said. “Look, just…”

_I will never forgive you._

“Just hold him in position,” Magnus said, determined. He’d try. He was the High Warlock of Brooklyn, he could handle this. It was a very simple spell. Hell, normally he could do this in his sleep.

He could do it.

He rushed over to one of his cabinets, scanning the shelves quickly and pulling out two bottles.

He quickly returned to Simon’s side, ignoring the stares of the others as he stripped Simon’s shirt. He opened the first jar and dipped his fingers into the paste– a paste not unlike solid perfume– and rubbed it as gently as he could on Simon’s wounds, making sure it was a generous amount.

The salve would help with the healing while Magnus permanently closed the cuts. They would never completely heal on their own, being werewolf-caused wounds rather than a regular wound.

It also had very slight anesthetic properties– Catarina’s own design– to hopefully ease the pain, and keep Simon unaware and sedated while he was being healed.

Magnus finished rubbing the salve on his wounds and corked the jar, carelessly wiping the paste from his fingers on Jace’s shirt. He ignored the protesting noise Jace made in favor of setting the first jar down.

He opened the second, taking a small handful of the fine, sand-like substance in it. It was smooth like silk and very light in his palms.

He set the other jar down, and got into position.

Magnus spread his feet slightly for a stronger stance, holding his hands above Simon, one palm open and glowing with light, the other closed in a fist.

The stardust would burn out infection and prevent Magnus’s magic from harming Simon. It was, after all, a demon deterrent, albeit not a very strong one on its own. It would hopefully clear the existing venom in the wounds, preventing them from healing. It wouldn’t work if Simon were mundane, but as it was…

The stardust wasn’t actually from stars, of course, it was a certain kind of stone with magical properties ground into very fine sand, but it was known as stardust, anyway. A fanciful name.

Magnus began to chant– like many spells, he knew this one by heart. He was lucky it didn’t require any ingredients that he didn’t have. He was lucky he’d had stardust– this was the only spell that he would’ve have stood a chance doing, withwhat his lack of energy.

He sprinkled the stardust as necessary, chanting in a language the others didn’t understand. Once the stardust ran out, hanging in the air and shimmering just above Simon’s wounds, he whirled his hands in a slightly complicated looking movement, the glow intensifying.

And finally, he lowered his hands so that they were almost touching Simon.

The chant came to a stop, and Magnus took a deep breath and let his magic rush to his fingertips, thrumming and pouring into Simon.

His wounds are closing, painfully slowly. Simon was still passed out, but it didn’t stop him from squirming in the shadowhunters’ grip and moaning in discomfort.

Magnus was beginning to feel dizzy.

Simon wasn’t healed yet, he was still bleeding, so he forged on, pushing himself.

More energy roared through him, pouring from his hands and outwards.

He felt cold, his muscles felt too tense and flaring as he tried to hold himself up the best he could. He began to stumble, nearly falling to the ground, but Clary caught him.

It was nothing like when he’d been healing Luke– he’d practically collapsed into Alec’s arms, and he’d been so gentle…

Clary was too focused on Simon, too anxious to notice how her fingernails were digging into his arm as she roughly pulled him up again. She didn’t seem to realize, but the slight pain was enough to help him focus instead of drowning in the sensation of the magic, so he let it slide.

He held out for a little longer, but now… He didn’t have enough energy. The spell was much more depleting than he’d thought, and he wasn’t sure he could hold it. But it was too late to turn back now, the spell had to be completed.

Magnus strained under the effort, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his glamour fizzle out. He was near his limit, the rush of the energy burning through him, burning _out_ of him as he gave it all to Simon… it _hurt,_ and he stifled a groan of pain.

He almost gave up, but then he remembered Clary’s face, heartbroken and angry, and her words– _I will never forgive you,_ she’d said with conviction– and he remembered Simon, who so innocent in all this, who’d gotten these cuts trying to help a scared downworlder, who didn’t deserve to die…

Magnus kept going, pouring everything he had into the spell. He was dipping into his own life force, and even though his vision was going fuzzy all he could see was Simon’s wounds closing, healing.

Good. Simon would probably be safe. He just had to hold on a little longer…

His head was pounding, his muscles aching, veins burning with magic, and finally, _finally–_

His vision went white, and the burning stopped as Magnus collapsed to the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

They had come to Magnus because they trusted him. _Clary_ trusted him.

All of them would admit– even Jace, begrudgingly– that Magnus was a good person. He was kind-hearted and generous, despite all of his flippancy and sarcasm.

And he always willing to help. Not to mention he was _powerful._

He was their friend. Clary’s friend.

He called her biscuit, and he’d been helping her (and her mother) since she was very small.

Honestly, Clary liked him. Magnus was funny, he was compassionate, and watching him fluster the grumpy oldest Lightwood was always fun. He was also full of interesting stories and clever jokes, and despite being a total badass, he clearly had a soft spot for cats (and people in need). Yeah, even though she didn’t see him much outside of disasters, she liked him.

It didn’t seem to occur to her– or to any of them– that they were not treating him like a friend at all.

They’d brought Simon to him, desperate because he was _dying,_ and asked for Magnus to save him.

And Magnus had, of course, agreed.

He’d been a little careless, flippant– and it irked Clary more than usual, because didn’t he _care,_ Simon was right there and he was _dying_ –

But Magnus had given in, seemingly resolute in his cause.

He’d prepared a few herbs of some sort, and then stood over Simon, every inch the powerful warlock he was.

Watching him do magic was kind of fascinating, Clary would admit. The chanting in foreign languages, the light and strange ingredients– it was everything she might’ve imagined as a kid and more.

Right now, however, she barely noticed, to fixated on Simon.

And then Magnus had been healing him, the light almost blinding as it settled over Simon. His brow was furrowed with concentration, and when he let out a quiet gasp and began to stumble, she caught him and hoisted him up, not even tearing her eyes away from her prone friend. She couldn’t let Simon die. She just couldn’t. Not after everything.

After a long moment, Magnus shook her off, closing his eyes tightly.

Simon was almost completely healed, although still passed out.

Magnus was breathing hard, and for the first time since he’d started the spell, Clary actually looked at him, attention caught by his shaking hands.

He was pale, _too_ pale. He looked dazed and there were smudges under his eyes.

The magic flowing out of him was dimming, flickering.

“Magnus?” she began, concerned.

But before she could say anything else, his eyes rolled back into his head, the light vanished, and Magnus dropped like a stone.

Clary’s first instinct was to glance over at Simon, making sure he was okay.

Where there had been bloody, gaping cuts, there were now a few thin white lines that seemed to shimmer slightly. He’d stopped convulsing, and now lay as if asleep, breath even and mouth hung open.

“Magnus!” Isabelle cried, letting go of Simon immediately and rushing to the fallen warlock’s side. Jace hung back, but he looked a little concerned despite himself.

She turned him over so he was on his back, still passed out. He was pale and warm to the touch, slightly sweaty and shivering in a way that worried her. His eyes were moving rapidly behind the lids, but he was unresponsive.

Clary dropped to her knees beside him, gently grabbing his shoulders. “Magnus,” she said softly, urgently. “Wake up!”

He made no response.

“He needs medical attention,” Isabelle said with a sense of growing urgency.

“What happened?” Jace asked.

“I don’t know,” Isabelle sad grimly.

“He looks exhausted,” Clary said, distressed. “Is he going to be okay?”

Fuck. _Fuck._ Had he been this tired when they’d shown up, and she hadn’t noticed in her urgency?

“I don’t know,” Isabelle repeated, looking worried. She seemed to be checking his vitals, his pupils– which were slitted and surrounded by gold. “I think he’ll be fine, but I can’t be sure. I’ve mostly worked with shadowhunters, demons, and the occasional mundane. I’m no expert on warlock magic.”

“Who _can_ help us, then?” Clary demanded.

Isabelle sighed.

“Normally, we’d go to Magnus,” Jace pointed out. “That’s not really an option.”

“We can fire-message one of the warlocks in the Institute files,” Isabelle said. “But…”

“We can call Alec,” Clary said suddenly. “He’s Head of the Institute, and he might know one of Magnus’s friends.”

“Maybe,” Isabelle agreed. “But in a minute. Jace, help me get him to the bed.”

Jace obliged, helping her scoop the warlock up and carry him down the hall into the bedroom.

Clary almost followed, but she looked back at Simon, biting her lip.

“Simon will be fine, Clary,” Isabelle said. “He just needs rest.”

“He’ll be fine, thanks to Magnus,” Clary said softly.

They settled Magnus’s limp body on the bed. His head lolled to the side.

He looked different like this.

Not a powerful warlock, old and wise, but instead almost… young-looking. Unguarded, weak, vulnerable.

It was surreal.

“I’ll call Alec,” Isabelle said softly. ”’Be right back.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Alec was _furious._

Absolutely fucking furious.

And by the time he got to Magnus’s apartment, he was seriously ready to deck someone.

He’d already called Catarina, a friend of Magnus’s whom he knew was a nurse– she was also pissed (and on her way).

He knocked a little harder than necessary and the door opened almost immediately, revealing Clary, who was looking at him with wide, worried eyes.

“What the hell were you _thinking?_ ” he hissed, and pushed his way past her.

He practically marched into the apartment, looking around.

Simon was passed out on the couch– he looked fine, thank god, because even if Alec definitely did not approve of how things went down, he still was glad that Simon was (relatively) alive and well.

“In here,” Isabelle called from the direction of the bedroom, slightly muffled.

Alec walked in, Clary close behind. She went to stand by the other two, and Alec looked down at where Magnus lay, pale and unmoving, on the bed.

His breath was even, at least, but he was still lightly trembling and flushed– Alec put a hand to Magnus’s forehead gently. He was hot. Fever.

His eyes were twitching but closed, as if he was having a bad dream.

Alec’s hand unconsciously drifted down to stroke his cheek.

Usually, Magnus was always in motion, vivid expressions painted over his face and hands moving about. Now he was still, his beautiful face slack and blank. It was disquieting.

 “What the hell were you thinking?” he said again, voice dangerously quiet. He didn’t even look away from his sleeping boyfriend.

Having been addressed, he could hear them nervously shifting.

“You nearly got Simon killed,” Alec said, voice never raising, never looking up. “And then you dragged Magnus into it, too.”

“Alec,” Jace protested half-heartedly. “We–”

“Jace, if you know what’s good for you, shut up.”

“Noted.”

“First of all,” Alec said, taking a deep breath, “Going out on this mission in the first place was a ridiculous idea. The intel wasn’t verified, and anything could’ve happened. And the lead was useless– which you would have known, had you checked in with me before running off half-cocked!”

He finally looked up at them. Clary looked pale and shaken. Jace was doing what he always did: acting unaffected and annoyed, when really, he was part sulking because he knew Alec was right and part genuinely remorseful. He’d find some way to apologize without actually apologizing later. Isabelle looked tired, if nothing else.

“Secondly,” Alec said, “Magnus is the High Warlock of Brooklyn. He’s _extremely_ busy, especially in times like these. Downworlders are looking to him for guidance, he has clients to take care of, not to mention… personal issues.” He caught himself before he could actually elaborate, and even though he could tell they were curious, he knew they wouldn’t push it. Not right now, anyway.

“My point being, he can’t just drop everything and help you for free every time you break a bone or you need something.”

“Alec, you’re the first one to go to Magnus with a problem.” Jace said, eyebrow raised.

“If it’s something he needs to know, being a major leader in the downworld,” Alec said impatiently. “I also inform Luke, Raphael, and Meliorn of a lot of things. It’s a part of my _job._ And yeah, it’s true I might go to Magnus for a more personal problem, but that’s because he’s my boyfriend. And also my _friend._ We do, you know, _talk to each other._ And if he can’t or won’t, then I fucking back off.”

“Simon was dying!” Clary exclaimed. “That’s a good reason! Just because you don’t like him, doesn’t mean–”

“Just because he mildly annoys me, doesn’t mean I think he deserves to die _.”_ Alec said, resisting the urge to eyeroll (and the urge to add “again” to the end of his sentence). “But there are plenty of warlocks that you can call from the Institute.”

“We didn’t have time!”

“There’s a thing called _portals,_ ” Alec said. “They’d be there as soon as possible. And you had time to get to the loft, didn’t you?”

“The Institute wouldn’t foot the bill for a downworlder, you know that,” Jace said, brow furrowed.

“Jace, I’m the Head. I would authorize that use of funds in a second, and you should know that.”

“Alec’s right,” Isabelle sighed. Before she could elaborate, someone behind them interrupted.

“Damn right he is. Well said, Lightwood.”

Alec turned. A blue woman with white hair tied back in a messy bun stood in the doorway, looking dangerously calm.

“Catarina,” he said, tone changing completely. “Thank god. He’s going to be okay, right?”

“I think so,” she said softly, approaching the bed and looking down at her exhausted friend. “This is probably a classic case of magical exhaustion. Wouldn’t be surprised if it was regular exhaustion, too. Magnus always has worked himself too hard.”

She sat down on the bed next to him, conjuring up a cold, damp cloth and placing it gently on Magnus’s forehead.

Catarina had apparently decided to ignore the other occupants of the room, and was now checking his vitals much like Isabelle had done earlier.

After a long moment of awkward silence, she looked up. “Out.” she said sharply.

The others fled quickly, apparently deciding to wait in the living room. Alec lingered, unsure for a moment.

Catarina rolled her eyes. “Lightwood, you can stay.”

Alec gave her a small smile. “Uh, thanks.”

They hadn’t talked much before– the one time they actually met in person, Magnus had been there (and awake) to be a buffer.

It was a little awkward.

On the other hand, it was nice for Alec to talk with someone he knew actually cared about Magnus.

Not that the others didn’t, but they didn’t _get it._

Hell, Alec hadn’t at first. He’d been terrible at the beginning, when he was still learning.

That’s not to say he wasn’t still learning– he didn’t think he’d ever stop. But he was much better than he’d been.

He’d learned to really appreciate everything Magnus did. He was ashamed he hadn’t sooner.

Catarina finally stood again, interrupting his train of thought with a loud sigh. “He’ll be fine,” she said. “He needs rest, lots of rest. He’ll know what to do when he wakes up.”

“Um, yeah. Okay. I’ll stay with him,” Alec said. “Are you–?”

“Unfortunately not,” Catarina said, frown tugging at her lips. “I have a time-sensitive appointment with a patient in half an hour. But call me when he wakes up, I’ll be here as soon as possible.”

She paused. “Take care of him, Alec.”

Alec nodded, completely sincere. “I’ll go get rid of the others. Izzy can cover for me at the Institute.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Clary awaited news anxiously. In the meantime, she was tending to Simon. He still hadn’t woken up yet, and she was a little worried.

When the blue woman– Alec had called her Catarina– finally came out of the bedroom, Clary stood.

“Is he going to be okay?” she asked.

Catarina gave her a severe look. “With rest, Magnus will be fine. No thanks to you, shadowhunter.”

A portal snapped open in front of her, and she was through it before Clary could even say anything.

Alec came out of the bedroom. “You should go,” he said. He sounded tired and angry, but not as furious as he had a few minutes ago.

He looked over at Isabelle, who was watching him seriously. “Izzy, do you mind covering for me at the Institute? I’m going to stay with Magnus.”

“Of course, big bro,” she said softly. “Tell me when he wakes up, yeah?”

Alec nodded. “Thanks.”

He turned to address Clary and Jace. “You two should get Simon somewhere safe. His apartment should be fine.”

“Uh, Simon lives in a boathouse,” Clary said.

Alec blinked. “A boatho– okay, I’ll deal with that later. Is there a bed?”

“Well, there is now,” Clary said. “He got it recently.”

Alec sighed. “Then that should be fine for now.” He made a mental note to try and find Simon an actual apartment.

“He hasn’t woken up yet,” she said anxiously.

“Yeah, neither has Magnus,” Alec snapped. “But they’re both going to be _fine,_ so please, for once in your life, do what you’re told!”

Startled, Clary took a step back.

“Come on, Clary,” Jace said, voice softer than usual. He shot Alec an unreadable look, but apparently Alec understood, because he his eyes softened slightly and he nodded.

Then he turned and walked away, back to the bedroom.

The bedroom where Magnus was lying, unconscious, because of how reckless she and Jace had been.

Even Isabelle had been doubtful if they should go, but they’d convinced her until she worn down (if only to keep an eye on them because she knew they were going whether she agreed to tag along or not).

And two people– two of her friends– had paid the price.

Clary was silent the whole way back to the Institute.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Magnus woke up, he felt very heavy. Heavy and warm and fuzzy, like his head was stuffed full of cotton and his limbs were made of lead.

He blinked groggily, attempting to sit up only to sag back down on the sheets with a quiet groan.

 _Shit,_ everything ached. His throat was dry and crackly, his chest felt tight, and he felt cold, despite being under several blankets. Oh, this was most unpleasant.

“Magnus!” someone said softly over to his right, sounding alarmed and relieved.

Magnus squinted slightly, blinking away the spots in his vision. Alec’s concerned face swam into view.

He was sitting by the bed, one hand resting over Magnus’s. He seemed to be sitting in an armchair that had been pulled up, sitting bent towards the bed at an uncomfortable angle.

“Oh, thank the angel,” Alec breathed. His hand tentatively cupped Magnus’s cheek. “Are you alright? Feeling better?”

“Feel like shit, actually,” Magnus mumbled. Memories of what had happened were already resurfacing.

Alec pressed a cold bottle of water into his hands. “Catarina says you have to drink lots of water,” he said. “Speaking of Catarina, I should probably call her…”

“Oh, give me a few minutes first, please,” Magnus groaned. “She’ll never stop lecturing me. Hey, is Simon alright?”

Alec gave him an indescribably fond look. “I’m, uh, not completely sure,” he said sheepishly, “I’ve been focused on… taking care of you. But Izzy would’ve called if anything was seriously wrong.”

Magnus nodded, too tired to pursue the line of questioning.

“Lilith, how long have I been asleep?” Magnus asked, glancing at the clock.

“Not _asleep,_ ” Alec said pointedly. “ _Passed out._ And… it’s been a few days, Magnus.”

“A few _days?_ Fuck. I had clients, I-”

“Catarina cancelled them for you. I’m pretty sure they understood, considering you were practically in a _coma._ ”

“Still, I should probably…”

“Oh, no,” Alec said, gently pushing him back down on the mattress. “You aren’t going anywhere. You exhausted yourself to the point of literal collapse. Granted, it was also definitely _their_ fault, but you’re still very depleted. Catarina agrees. You’re taking a zillion naps.”

“Is zillion even a number?”

Alec shrugged. His dark eyes were soft and affectionate as he looked down at Magnus.

Magnus sighed, but he wasn’t really irritated at all. His chest felt warm and fuzzy, actually. Not in the sick way, but in the fond way. They really cared about him.

He unscrewed the bottle cap, taking a long swig. The cool water felt very nice on his dry throat.

“You should probably get some rest,” Alec said.

“I’ve been asleep for a few _days,_ Alexander-” Magnus protested.

“ _Passed out,_ ” Alec interrupted, a little shrilly. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me. I think you gave Clary and Jace a kick in the ass, too.”

“Are they okay?”

“They’re fine,” Alec huffed. “I think they’re just starting to realize that they’ve kind of been dicks.”

Magnus took another long sip of water. “They’re not that bad,” he denied, and he was only lying a little.

Alec frowned. “I just don’t like the way they treat you. It’s too much like-”

He broke off, curling in on himself slightly, but he didn’t have to finish the sentence.

Magnus knew exactly what he meant.

_Just like all shadowhunters, just like I had at the beginning, just like me._

“Darling, you’ve never made me feel used,” he said softly. _Not in a long time._

Alec looked up, hazel eyes glimmering. “This isn’t about me,” he said firmly. “Besides, we’ve gotten away from the original topic. You need _rest,_ Magnus.”

Magnus sighed dramatically, deciding to let it go. “How about a compromise?” he said.

Alec looked at him suspiciously. “Like what?”

“I’ll rest,” Magnus said, shifting slightly and giving Alec a coy smile, “if you rest _with me._ ”

Alec’s lips tipped up into a slight smile. “Rest with you?” he repeated slowly. “So, what, I’ll sleep on the couch?”

Magnus pouted. “No,” he said. “With me. In bed. It’s plenty big enough for both of us, as you very well know.”

Alec’s teasing expression faded into sincere affection and love. “I know,” he said. “Alright. But no funny business!” He jabbed a finger in Magnus’s direction.

“Cross my heart,” Magnus said mock-seriously. “I’ll even drink the water when we wake up.”

Alec threw off his shirt- Magnus shamelessly ogled him- and flicked off the lights. Then, he lifted the covers, gently sliding under them.

Magnus immediately slipped into his arms, ducking his head into the shadowhunter’s neck and reveling in the warmth of his body, his closeness.

Alec’s arms tightened around him slightly, tugging him a little closer. Magnus gave a content little sigh, wrapping his own strong arms around Alec’s waist.

“I sleep better in your arms, anyway,” he mumbled into Alec’s neck, not really expecting a response.

“Love you,” Alec murmured back anyway, leaving a kiss in his hair.

“…Love you, too,” Magnus said, soft and muffled and the words a little slurred.

Alec watched as Magnus’s breathing evened out again as the warlock drifted back to sleep, warm and solid in his arms.

Seeing him so vulnerable, unglamoured- although he doubted Magnus had realized- and without any makeup of jewelry… It was both rewarding, and scary.

On one hand, he always looked beautiful like this. Bare and wholly himself, soft and rumpled and just… _gorgeous_.

He was always gorgeous, of course, and he was very much _himself_ with makeup on, but there was a certain trust and vulnerability that Alec appreciated about this kind of look.

On the other hand, he hadn’t _chosen_ to look like this. He was like this because he’d spent the last of his energy helping Alec’s siblings _again._

Alec… kind of wanted to deck someone again.

Looking down at the man curled up in his arms, fast asleep and breaths soft against his neck, Alec wanted to protect him. Even if he could take care of himself perfectly well, he deserved to be protected for a change.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Catarina got to Magnus’s loft, she didn’t see the shadowhunter anywhere.

She knew him well enough- mostly through Magnus’s lovelorn rambles- to know he would probably be cleaning something. Apparently, it was something he did when he was stressed and wanted to help. A nice quality, Cat supposed.

But she didn’t see him anywhere.

That is, until she made it to the bedroom and found them both curled together on the bed.

They were wrapped up in each other’s arms, eyes closed and breathing even. It was… actually kind of sweet. But Alec was also asleep, which is inconvenient.

However, it would be plain rude to wake him up, especially as it risked the chance of waking Magnus up.

So she decided to wait.

She carefully chose a book off of one of Magnus’s shelf- a cheesy romance novel that he may or may not have stolen from her at some point- and settled in the chair next to the bed, content to use her magic to monitor them for any change.

It didn’t take long for Alec to awaken.

He blinked blearily at her, shifting slightly. Magnus stirred in his arms, and Alec froze- but the warlock just exhaled softly, settling down again. He was still fast asleep.

Alec looked up at her. “Oh, you’re here,” he said. He sounded like he was still half-asleep.

“I am,” Catarina agreed. “Go back to sleep.”

He squinted at her.

“I’ll lecture him when he wakes up,” she said. “He needs the rest.” She kept her voice soft so as not to wake her sleeping friend.

“I think… Izzy and the others wanted to… check in again?” Alec said, rubbing his eye with his free hand. “They haven’t already been around, have they?”

“Nope,” Catarina said.

Magnus shifted and mumbled something incomprehensible into Alec’s neck. Catarina coughed.

Magnus raised his head, eyes sleepy and unglamoured. He blinked rapidly for a moment, shaking himself awake. “M _mm…_ morning.”

“Damn it,” Alec said under his breath.

“It’s not morning, you dimwit, it’s afternoon,” Catarina said sharply, thinly veiling her concern. “Magnus, you _massively_ overexerted yourself!”

Magnus sat up, legs still tangled with the shadowhunter’s. He stared up at her, giving a slow, owlish blink, wide cat eyes still cloudy with sleep.

Catarina sighed. “I’ll save the lecture for when you’re feeling better,” she said, with a resigned sort of fondness, “But you’re still drinking a _shit ton_ of water, ya hear me?”

“No need to mother-hen me,” Magnus said fondly, “I _can_ take care of myself.”

Catarina raised an eyebrow, about to respond, but there was a loud knock on the front door.

“That’s probably them,” Alec said warily. One arm draped around Magnus’s shoulder almost protectively. Magnus leaned into the touch.

Catarina’s lips twitched, fighting back a smile. She hadn’t seen her friend like this in a very long time.

There was another loud, insistent knock.

The restrained smile quickly became a snarl.

She was honestly considering pushing them through a portal to somewhere unpleasant when Alec shifted on the bed, gently withdrawing from Magnus. “I’ll get it,” he sighed.

“But I’m comfortable,” Magnus sighed, sagging back slightly, but Alec slipped from the bed anyway, pulling the covers back over him.

“I’ll go deal with them.” Alec said.

“Let them in,” Magnus said, grabbing the water bottle from the table.

Alec shared a skeptical look with Catarina. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he began, but Magnus leant up and put a finger to his lips.

Alec’s eyes followed his movement, lips curling into a small smile under the light touch. Clearly, the gesture meant something to him, but Catarina wasn’t sure what.

“Hear them out,” Magnus said.

Alec let out a long sigh. “Fine,” he said. “For you. I can’t stay mad at Jace and Izzy forever, anyway.”

Alec trudged past her and into the hallway, towards the door.

Catarina exhaled, looking back at the bed where her friend lay. He was still worryingly pale, but he was drinking his water and he’d definitely recover.

“That shadowhunter’s good for you,” she said, softer than she’d intended.

Magnus hummed in agreement.

“I’d doubted it,” Cat continued, feeling a little distant as she turned to look down the hallway where he’d gone. “But he really cares for you.”

She glanced over at Magnus. He was smiling. “Yeah,” he said. “He does.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Clary got to Magnus’s loft, she was determined.

She hadn’t been back here since the night Magnus had collapsed. Izzy had, and Alec hadn’t even left, and she knew that she would’ve been told if he’d gotten any worse. But she was still worried.

Besides, Isabelle had texted her and told her that Magnus had woken up. Clary needed to see him.

To apologize.

She hadn’t told anyone she was leaving- although she’d sent a text out to Izzy once she was in front of Magnus’s building- because she hadn’t wanted to be stopped.

Clary knocked again, wondering if anyone was going to answer. She felt a little impatient, but she pushed the feeling down. This wasn’t about her.

The door swung open just as her knuckles made contact with the wood, and Alec was standing in the doorway, tall and stern.

“What do you want?” he asked, almost emotionlessly.

“To speak to Magnus,” Clary said immediately.

Alec narrowed his eyes at her, but with obvious reluctance, he let the door fall open further, inviting her in. Her eyebrows raised in surprise. She’d expected more of a fight.

“Magnus told me to let you in,” Alec informed her, obviously annoyed by her presence. She stepped in, and he closed the door behind her.

Catarina entered, clearly having emerged from the bedroom. “Clarissa Fairchild, yes?”

“Um… yes,” Clary said uncertainly.

“Would you like some tea?” she said sweetly. “I recently got a new blend I’d like to try out!”

“Why?” Clary asked without thinking.

“You’re a guest,” Catarina said, tilting her head slightly. “And I was going to put some on, anyway.”

Alec looked amused. “I’d take it if I were you,” he said quietly, the corners of his lips twitching up.

“Sure,” Clary said. She felt a little uneasy, but she was pretty sure that Catarina wouldn’t actually try to kill her in Magnus’s loft.

The warlock grinned. Her smile was a little… off-putting.

“I’ll go put it on,” she said, walking into another room.

Okay. Mental note. Do not cross Catarina.

She entered the room again, carrying a steaming cup of tea.

Only one cup. None for her or Alec.

She handed it to Clary. Clary hissed on contact with the hot porcelain, almost dropping it.

“Sorry,” the warlock said, tone as sweet as it had been when Clary had entered. “It’s hot.”

Her eyes were dangerous looking.

Clary glanced at Alec, wondering if he would let her get poisoned. He wasn’t looking at her.

She took a sip and nearly spat it out immediately. It tasted disgusting.

“How is it?” Catarina asked. “Is it any good?”

Clary choked on the tea slightly. “It’s fine,” she said, strained.

“Are you going to let her in or not?” Magnus’s voice called from the other room. Clary almost went straight for the bedroom, but Alec’s hand stopped her.

He gave her a look, then went ahead. Clary heard vague words and conversation, muffled by the walls, then Alec popped back out, gesturing for her to enter.

Catarina followed after her, looking pleased.

Clary entered the bedroom. Her first impression was how _different_ it was from the night he’d healed Luke.

Then, it had been clean and minimal, everything in place and nothing really that personal.

Now, it was more of a mess. More homey, and lived-in.

There were makeup wipes on top of the dresser, there was a jacket thrown over the chair near the door, there were some clothes on the floor (although not many). Mostly, though, Clary noticed the _photographs._ They were all pinned to the wall in a small group, and they were widely varied.

There was a candid shot of Alec, laughing into a drink, and a picture of him and Magnus together at some sort of beach. There was a picture of Magnus and Catarina, both of them laughing uproariously at a horned man that Clary recognized as Ragnor Fell. Her heart gave a guilty pang as she realized she’d never asked Magnus about it afterwards. She’d meant to see if he was okay, but she’d gotten so caught up in the drama of her own life… she’d simply forgotten.

There was another picture of four men- a vampire she vaguely recognized, who was leaning against Magnus on his phone and looking bored, a seelie that she was pretty sure was Meliorn, and… _Luke,_ who had an arm thrown around Magnus’s shoulders. They looked like they were friends.

There was another of Isabelle, grinning and arms draped around Alec’s shoulders from behind, Alec looking amused and fond.

Another candid shot, this time of the warlock behind her, white hair caught in the wind and eyes sparkling, the dress she was wearing caught mid-spin.

A photo of Magnus and Ragnor- Ragnor who looked very irritated, and Magnus who looked rather drunk.

A picture of Magnus and Dot, sitting very close together on a couch and clearly holding back smiles as Dot flipped off the camera.

There were countless others with people Clary didn’t recognize. Magnus wasn’t even in most of them. They varied in age and style, some even black and white and cracked at the edges, others shiny and glossy as if brand-new.

It was surreal, in a way, but it also wasn’t.

Magnus was… he was a person.

It wasn’t like Clary hadn’t known this, of course.

But he always seemed so untouchable. Powerful and distant and radiant, like a god. He never got hurt, he never seemed anything less than flawless.

But he did get hurt, didn’t he?

After Ragnor’s death. After Alec’s rejection. After… this.

“Are you alright, biscuit?”

Magnus’s concerned and tired voice broke through her thoughts.

Her attention turned to Magnus himself. He was sitting on the bed, swathed in blankets and sheets pulled up to drape over his shoulders. He was clutching a bottle of water, and he was still completely bare of makeup and jewelry.

To her left, Alec grumbled something under his breath about _selfless idiots._

“Uh, yeah,” Clary said. “Yeah, I’m fine. I- are _you_ okay?”

“I’m quite fine,” Magnus said, almost dismissively. “How’s Simon doing?”

Clary blinked. “He woke up a day before you did. He’s, uh, recovering well. He might have scars, but he said they looked badass anyway.”

How could Clary have ever thought he didn’t care? Even for one damn moment?

Exhausted and pale and he was asking about Simon. A vampire he barely knew.

“Seriously, though. Magnus, how are you doing?” she persisted. “Is there anything we can do?”

Magnus sighed. “I just need rest, biscuit. I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t you want more tea?” Catarina said sweetly, gesturing to Clary’s cup.

Clary winced, but took another mouthful.

Magnus narrowed his eyes. “Catarina, did you give Clary the Tea of Doom?”

Clary spat out the tea, eyes widening.

Catarina shrugged.

Magnus noticed Clary’s reaction, and said, “Don’t worry, it’s not poisonous. It just tastes _vile._ Catarina does so enjoy giving it to people she dislikes. She slipped it in my earl grey once after I got very drunk and decided to live life as a cactus.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Catarina said innocently. “This is a new brew I got in Brazil. I’ve never tried it before, so I have no idea if it tastes good or not.”

“Wait, what was that about the cactus thing?” Alec asked, a mischievous gleam in his eyes that Clary had never seen before.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Magnus said immediately, parroting Catarina’s earlier words. “Cactus thing? I never mentioned a cactus thing.”

“I’ll tell you the whole story later,” Catarina said cheerfully.

“Cat!” Magnus whined.

She shrugged unrepentantly.

Apparently forgotten, Clary resisted the urge to clear her throat. She set her tea down carefully.

However, Alec seemed to remember her presence, because suddenly he looked a lot less relaxed again, glancing at her warily.

“I- I wanted to apologize,” Clary said, once she realized no one else was going to speak.

“For what?” Magnus blinked.

“Everything,” Clary admitted in a rush. “We’ve- _I’ve_ \- been a shitty friend. A really shitty friend.”

Magnus looked surprised, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I mean, we come to you for help with a lot of our problems, and we- _I_ don’t really ask, and push too hard, and… you never really come to us for problems, but you should be able to, if we can help, and I don’t really talk to you much outside of disasters and that’s not really great friend behavior, and… I just… you _are_ my friend. To me, I mean. Not just… convenient.”

Catarina looked a little impressed, but still stern. Alec’s eyes had softened slightly, but his stance remained defensive and tense.

Magnus looked… unreadable. His eyes were wide and brown, his lips parted just slightly in surprise. But there was something else in his expression, something… something Clary couldn’t pin down.

“Jace and I- we were reckless, and we got Simon hurt. And then we were stupid and presumptuous and we got _you_ hurt. So… I’m sorry.”

The apology was clumsy and not well-put together at all, even though Clary had practiced under her breath the whole way here.

“You’re forgiven, biscuit,” Magnus said finally, quiet and almost… soft.

Catarina gave him a look that clearly indicated she thought he was going too easy on Clary. Clary didn’t blame her.

Clary bit her lip and sat down in the nearest empty chair, of which there was one. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked.

“Not really,” Catarina said.

“I don’t mind the company,” Magnus added, giving Catarina a look.

Alec rolled his eyes, but he didn’t protest. He sat on the bed next to Magnus. “You should drink more water,” he said, nudging Magnus’s arm. Magnus obliged.

Clary wasn’t really sure what to do with herself.

But she was going to make up for this. She was going to be better.

She could learn.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Magnus ended up having a long night. Long, but satisfying.

Clary had stayed for a while, and was surprisingly good company.

Magnus had watched her grow up, and he’d begun to wonder if he’d lost the little girl who had brought him a little hand-picked flower on three separate occasions (as she obviously didn’t remember him each time). She was much more reckless and bull-headed, refusing to listen and diving straight into danger with little reasoning.

Actually _talking_ with her for once had been… nice. Odd, perhaps, but nice. She was trying.

Isabelle and Simon had stopped by- Simon to thank him for saving his life, complete with rambling and an awkward attempt at a hug- and Isabelle had also quietly apologized. She’d also brought him a little bottle of nail polish that was a very nice shade of red. A thoughtful little gift.

Even Jace had stopped by. Although he hadn’t apologized directly, he’d clearly been concerned. Progress, Magnus supposed.

Catarina had gone eventually, with a warning that if he didn’t take care of himself, he wouldn’t be able to take a sip of tea for a decade without wincing.

And now, it was just he and Alec, alone again.

Alec stayed over at Magnus’s apartment often, but it still felt nice.

They were curled up in bed together. Not lying down, quite, but Magnus curled against Alec’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

A warm hand cupped Magnus’s cheek. “Magnus? You still awake?” Alec asked softly.

“Yeah,” Magnus said, opening his eyes. He’d let his glamour down again, now that the others were gone. He probably shouldn’t have expended energy to keep it up in the first place, but he hardly wanted to see their reaction to seeing them for the first time _now._

Alec had been rather quiet all day. There was something on his mind.

“Alec, what’s wrong?” Magnus asked, soft in the fragile silence.

Alec pulled away slightly so he could look Magnus in the eyes. “I just… you could’ve been seriously hurt.”

“I have a dangerous job,” Magnus pointed out. “We live dangerous lives. Either one of us could-”

“But it _wasn’t_ because of your job,” Alec interrupted, frustrated. “You exhausted yourself, and you pushed yourself over the brink to help… to help _us._ And I didn’t even notice!”

“You’ve been pretty tired and overworked yourself, Alec,” Magnus said. “And you didn’t ask me for anything.”

“But you… you helped them, even though you were exhausted!” Alec said, clearly trying to articulate something he wasn’t quite able to. “You just…”

Magnus frowned.

Alec sighed, his eyes soft. “You once told me I’d blow up the ground I stand on to make something right. I think… I think you’d do the same, for a friend. Or anyone in need. Even if they don’t really deserve it.” He paused, looking at Magnus like he was assessing his face to see if he was right. “Because you’re just… like that. You’re kind and loyal and… selfless.”

Magnus almost looked away, feeling vulnerable and a little exposed. Alec was right, of course. He would give up almost anything for a friend, and he would always help someone in need, even at cost to himself. He’d known healing Simon would take a lot out of him, but he’d done it anyway. Because he cared.

“I just…” Alec continued, brow furrowed. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Because someone took advantage of that, or because you hurt yourself helping someone who didn’t deserve it. I don’t want you to change yourself, but I don’t want you to get hurt, either.”

Magnus couldn’t help but smile a little at that. Alec was… he really cared. He loved Magnus as he was, despite everything. Logically, Magnus knew that, but sometimes… it just hit him.

_I don’t want you to change yourself._

_I don’t want you to get hurt._

Alec was surprisingly sweet, for a shadowhunter.

“Maybe that doesn’t make sense,” Alec huffed, unaware of Magnus’s thoughts. “But you deserve better, is what I’m saying. Better-”

Magnus leant forwards and up, softly brushing his lips against Alec’s. Alec kissed back immediately, making a surprised noise against his lips even as Magnus enthusiastically pressed further into his arms, deepening the kiss.

When they broke apart, Magnus had tipped Alec back so he was almost lying down, Magnus on top of him. Their lips were a hair’s breadth apart, their breath mingling together.

“No funny business,” Alec breathed.

“I know,” Magnus said, breathless. “I just love you.”

“I love you, too,” Alec beamed, and he gently pulled Magnus down for another kiss.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

>  **EDIT: i am _so_ sorry that this story came across as infantilizing magnus or trying to make him seem weak. that wasn't my intention at all! i'm not satisfied with this edited version, but i'm not sure how to further improve it without messing up again or completely starting over from scratch. i'm only posting this again for the people who enjoyed it, and for whatever may have survived of my original intentions (which is hopefully most of it!) i hope you can enjoy it despite its flaws. i will attempt to educate myself further before posting anything similar. **  
>   
> 
> not super satisfied with the ending but oH WELL i have like seventy other things to work on
> 
> look i know that apology is kinda OOC. in fact i'm pretty sure canon!clary is way too stubborn to ever say that, even if she did get her head out of her ass. but i actually do kind of like her sometimes, and i'd love it if she were redeemed and learned how to be less self-centered  
> i mean a lot of her selfish-ness in canon is kind of understandable, but after a while it gets annoying and less understandable  
> so anyway i just wanted her to redeem herself. it doesn't mean all is well (magnus is a super forgiving person, even if they don't necessarily deserve it) but it means she's trying
> 
> also I know the virgin shadowhunter thing was bullshit but _plot,_ okay
> 
> i am @doggo-fiends-on-a-spaceship on tumblr if you wanna approach me with a large harp and play me a song or something
> 
> (i may have elaborated more on those last few scenes- namely simon attempting to thank him and some more malec talking and cuddling- but then i accidentally accelerated my schedule because i'm a dumbfuck, so it didn't happen. oops)


End file.
